


run the world (girls)

by bloomsoftly



Series: green to the end of days [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: AKA the Avengers are all women, Alternate Universe, BAMF Darcy Lewis, F/M, I Don't Even Know, Prompt Fill, The Author Regrets Nothing, not gender swap though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 03:22:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10913298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloomsoftly/pseuds/bloomsoftly
Summary: Prompt from prompt fromSnowecat: Clint growled lightly “Not that I don't mind giving a good show once in a while, but doesn't this violate I don't know, some kind of doctors' ethics or something? Or don't I rate pants?” His rescuer/jailer laughed over the small fire in the corner of the cavern that they hid in. “You've only been fully awake for less than thirty minutes and what has you worried is not having pants?” “Hey I know where my priorities are."-or-the AU where the Avengers are all women, and I don’t mean gender-swap





	run the world (girls)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Snowecat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowecat/gifts).



> this is ridiculous and self-indulgent, but I hope you like it anyway. :)

Darcy fiddled with her bracelet for at least the sixth time, only to be rebuked by a stern voice in her ear.

“Darcy, you need to relax.”

She huffed and rolled her eyes in response. “I’m trying, Maria. This isn’t really my element, you know. I’m much more comfortable stealing things out from under someone in the board room. Except, you know, not literally.”

Another voice chimed in to reassure her. “Which you do very well, Darcy.”

Darcy rolled her eyes fondly. “Thanks, Pepper. Is everyone listening to me suck at this undercover thing right now?”

There was a long pause. With a sigh, Darcy eyed a nearby waiter who was passing out champagne glasses. She flagged him down and huffed, “I guess that’s a yes.”

“You’ll be fine, milaya,” the Black Widow purred in her ear. “Do you remember what your target will be wearing?”

Darcy accepted the glass from the waiter with a charming smile. She took a tiny sip of the champagne. Hiding her mouth behind the slim glass, she responded, “Yeah, he’ll be the guy in a purple suit. Seems a little ridiculous to me, but at least he should stand out.”

One of the Avengers—probably Peggy—started to admonish her for not taking the op seriously when a voice behind Darcy exclaimed, “Excuse me! Are you Darcy Lewis?”

The chatter from the comm abruptly ceased. Darcy turned slowly, hoping beyond hope that it wasn’t the guy in the purple suit. That greeting couldn’t even pretend to be in the same realm as subtle, much less stealthy. She caught sight of him, and—yeah, hopefully the nation’s security was not in the hands of this lost little puppy. He was cute, in a little kid sort of way. And luckily for her, not wearing a purple suit.

Which meant she had no time to talk to him about his superhero crushes. She asked coolly, “Can I help you?”

The young man—surely he wasn’t even eighteen—practically vibrated with excitement. “You’re Darcy Lewis, right?” Without waiting for her to respond, he gushed, “You work with the Avengers! Black Widow and Captain America, and—”

Darcy cut him off sharply, lowering her voice and enunciating clearly. “Look, kid. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m Vice President of Potts Industries, not a superhero.”

He nodded conspiratorially and winked. “Right. By day, you’re VP of Potts Industries, right-hand woman—” he snorted at his own joke, “—to Pepper Potts, who’s only the leader of the greatest superhero team on Earth.”

Darcy’s comm crackled to life. “I like him,” Pepper cooed, laughing under her breath.

Simultaneously, Peggy grumbled, “We’re co-leaders, thank you very much.”

Unaware of their reactions, the boy continued, “But everyone knows that your other job—”

A firm hand clapped the young man on the shoulder, gripping hard. “I think you’re making the lady uncomfortable, hotshot.”

It was the man in the purple suit. “You never said he would be attractive,” Darcy muttered under her breath to the rest of the team. And he was, in a rugged sort of way. He didn’t look like a rookie agent at all, as a matter of fact.

There was smothered laughter on the other side of the comm, but the guy in purple distracted Darcy by throwing her a salacious wink.

She tamped down on the attraction that fluttered in her belly and turned to the young man. “Look—”

“Peter.”

“Look, Peter. It was very nice to meet you, really. But I’m a little busy right now, so if you’ll excuse me.” She looked at him pointedly, hoping he’d get it.

He didn’t. “But this is a gala. How are you busy—oh. _Oh_.” He bobbed his head excitedly. “You’re _busy_. On definitely-not Avengers business. Right, right. Okay.” Peter danced away a couple of steps—the man in the purple suit looking on the whole time—and then turned back and hissed altogether too loudly, “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

He even waved and gave an exaggerated wink as he hurried away. Darcy rolled her eyes in exasperation.

“That’s not the tactic I would’ve taken to get rid of him, but to each their own,” the man in purple murmured, standing so close that his breath ghosted over the shell of her ear. Darcy flinched in surprise, but managed to refrain from a stronger reaction. Ignoring it, the man stepped even closer and grazed the outside of her arm with a calloused fingertip.

Throatily, he added, “Maybe you and I cold go somewhere more private and get to know each other a little better?”

At that, Darcy spun on her heel, ready to rip him a new one. At her expression, his eyes went wide and he took a tiny step back. He stuttered quickly, “Aww, shit. No, not like that. I just meant—if, you know, we’re supposed to trade—”

Darcy giggled at the transition from suave federal agent to bumbling puppy. Turning the tables, she invaded his space and purred, “Sounds like a great idea. Let’s find ourselves an empty room, shall we?” She stood close enough to watch his throat move as he gulped, and took the time to appreciate the spicy scent of his aftershave.

There was no reaction to Darcy’s flirting from the team, and she frowned in confusion. She knew better than to believe they would have nothing to say about her flirting, and was perturbed by the glaring silence. 

And just like that, everything went to shit. One of the Avengers called, “incoming!” over the comm, and then an explosion rocked the mansion, rattling the opulent chandeliers. There was shouting from the upstairs balconies, and masked men started pouring down the stairs. Darcy’s companion took her hand and they fled with the rest of the crowd to escape the ballroom.

They raced down the hallways, almost making it to the main entrance before Darcy heard the telltale thump of combat boots approaching around the corner.

Thinking fast, she tugged the agent into the coat room. Sliding behind a rack of winter coats, they huddled together in silence and waited for the sound of footsteps to pass.

Once it was clear they were gone, Darcy turned and whispered, “Okay, dude. Tell me you have the flash drive.”

He raised an eyebrow at her but reached a hand into the inside of his suit jacket. “Dude?” he questioned, amused.

“Well I’m not going to keep calling you _the man in purple_ , am I?”

“Agent Clint Barton, at your service—”

Whatever he was going to say next was drowned out by a voice in Darcy’s ear. “Darcy, I need you to get out of that building right now,” Pepper hissed frantically. “We have to go radio silent for a while, but keep your comm on and we will come get you when it’s safe.”

“Affirmative.” Darcy paused, then added, “Please stay safe. All of you.” At the agent’s—Clint’s—questioning look, Darcy prompted, “How’s your thousand-yard dash?”

He smirked at her and answered, “Not bad. You ready?” Darcy sighed and kicked off her high heels. She nodded.

Clint dashed out the door. Darcy followed, snagging her coat—a waterproof, insulated, expensive gift from Pepper—and winter scarf from a nearby rack on her way. The remaining distance was clear, and she and Clint made it out of the mansion with little fuss. He paused at the bottom of the front steps—suit already soaked through from the freezing rain—and waited for her to catch up.

Darcy got close enough to reach out and grab Clint’s hand, and—

All of a sudden she was on her back, staring up at Clint’s face as he covered her body protectively. An explosion billowed from somewhere behind them, deafening her in one ear. Then they were moving again. Clint gripped her wrist tightly and called frantic encouragements every so often.

She and Clint raced into the forest surrounding the mansion, but didn’t stop running. Darcy’s hair plastered to her face, icy and wet. Her fingers started to lose sensation, until she could barely feel Clint’s grip on her wrist.

Darcy looked at her companion in alarm; if she was numb even while bundled up in a warm coat, Clint must have been in really bad shape. Sure enough, his movements were sluggish. Even his attempts to blink away the icy rain from his vision were slow, as if he was moving through molasses.

Something had to give, and soon. Luckily, Darcy spotted an outcropping of rocks that appeared to form a bit of shelter. She steered them that way desperately.

Clint all but collapsed once they got there, shivering from the cold. Terrified, Darcy dashed back out to find supplies. When she came back, she immediately built a small fire—the light from the flames showed that his lips were almost blue.

“Strip,” she commanded, standing to take off her coat at the same time. Clint just stood there, looking at her in confusion. Worried at his lack of response, she moved over to him and assisted him in taking off his clothing—his fingers were too numb and shaky to do it himself, and his movements were jerky and mechanical. It was like he wasn’t aware of what was going on.

Once he was naked, Darcy stripped off her cocktail dress and bundled herself and Clint underneath the full-length coat next to the fire. Eventually, their shared body heat warmed them both enough that they stopped shivering. After ten minutes or so, Clint’s breathing evened out into sleep.

They lied there for approximately an hour before their tiny fire started to flicker. Darcy gingerly removed herself from the warmth of their cocoon and went to coax it into a full flame.

The absence of Darcy’s body heat caused Clint to stir and wake up. Sitting up, the coat pooling at his waist, he growled lightly. “Not that I don’t mind giving a good show once in a while, but doesn’t this violate—I don’t know—some kind of doctors’ ethics or something? Or don’t I rate pants?”

Darcy laughed, moving back from where she’d been stoking the small fire in the corner of the cavern that they hid in. “Two things: one, you know I’m not a doctor—it’s a good thing you weren’t shot during our escape or we both would have been goners. And two, you’ve only been fully awake for less than two minutes and what has you worried is not having pants?”

With a roguish smile, Clint joked, “Hey, I know where my priorities are.” The effect was somewhat marred by the full-body shiver that overtook him.

Darcy frowned, hurrying back over to him. “Alright, flyboy. Get back under that coat before you die from hypothermia.” Clint huffed indignantly, but shifted over enough that she could slide under the jacket with him. To his credit, Clint’s eyes stayed above her chest for almost the entire time it took her to shuffle under the coat. _Almost_.

Sliding an arm around her and pulling her firmly into his body, Clint teased, “Did you just use a Star Wars insult on me?”

Darcy stroked a fingernail across his abs, appreciating the definition she found there. Clint shuddered at her touch. She smirked. “You got a problem with that, laser brain?”

He grinned in reply. “Not at all, darlin’. I’m starting to think we’re made for each other.”

She lifted her chin at that, and caught him staring at her mouth. They were close enough that she could reach out and lick the faint stubble on his jaw, if she wanted.

Darcy met his eyes and saw that Clint had come to the same realization. He licked his lips, drawing her gaze back to his mouth. She shifted her hand up slightly to his chest and gave herself the leverage she needed to reach his mouth.

Clint met her halfway. The kiss was soft at first—mouths still chilly and slightly numb from the rain—and they took their time exploring each other. Darcy swept her tongue along the seam of his lips, and he opened his mouth to allow her in.

He groaned against her mouth, pulling her impossibly closer into his body.

Darcy’s comm crackled to life for the first time since their hasty escape. “You do realize that we can hear all of this, yes?” Wanda asked, chuckling.

With reluctance, Darcy drew away. Clint threw her a questioning look, and she laughed, “We have an audience. We’ll continue this later, flyboy.”

He nipped at her lip one last time and admitted huskily, “I’m looking forward to it.”

**Author's Note:**

> I post these on [tumblr](https://bloomsoftly.tumblr.com) first.
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> [Send me a prompt and feed the muse!](https://bloomsoftly.tumblr.com/ask)


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